


Virus

by TheNobodyofaSOLDIER



Category: Ergo Proxy (Anime)
Genre: Androids, F/M, Obsession, Quiet love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 12:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30072474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER/pseuds/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER
Summary: It was a sickness you were afflicted, but as a machine, you failed to understand what it meant...[Vincent Law x AutoReiv!Reader]
Kudos: 1





	Virus

Trash.

By the seemingly perfect humans dwelling within their domed havens, you were better off thrown into the disposal, crushed into a scraps, ground into dust. Companions, entourages, knights, Autoreivs were updated regularly with better programming to tend to human needs and desires.

They existed in a little world all their own; close enough to humanity in order to care for their masters, and yet possessing no thoughts of their own, no wants, no fears, no soul.

And those that dared attempt to think for themselves, to conjure any ideas of their own free will, they were labeled as faulty, infected with the Cognito Virus.

When you gazed into a mirror, observing your skin, your eyes, your lips, your hair, as your fingertips examined these features, you wondered what truly separated yourself from your flesh and blood counterparts, what made you so disgusting in the eyes of the human race.

Was it so wrong for a new life to develop a sense of self and long to live as his own person?

Breaking you from your mad ferris wheel of anxiety, you felt a gloved hand encircle your shoulder. Your eyes darted to the shadowy figure at your side, only to find a small smile and eyes of a pure emerald peering into yours.

“Hello, Vincent,” you more whispered than spoke.

Vincent Law.

Having worked so long in Romdo disposing faulty AutoReivs, he was lucky to come across your flaccid body, draped over a pile of empty, worthless shells. Instead of ending you right then and there, once he made contact with your face, writhing, straining to cling to what little life you possessed, he took pity on you. He pulled you from the rubble, hid you from the perception of his superiors. He restored you. He pieced you back together. He sheltered you. He gave you a place to call home, not as a servant, not as a tool for pleasure, but a place to rest your head.

Symptoms of another horrid infection began to spread through your circuits, one that caused a smile to your face, a flickering in your chest, and a sparkle in your eye upon his return from a long day’s work.

Gratitude?

Happiness?

The days blurred together for you. Living beneath the dome, sources of natural light were engulfed by a toxic fog, leaving only a dull glow behind. You occupied yourself with reading, mundane house chores, watching workers pass by, sitting alone with your mind and becoming acquainted with the little voices in your mind, voices known as your individual contemplations.

Immediately, you exited your world when he stepped into the picture. He sat with you at meals, allowing you to speak of these thoughts and emotions. He strolled with you, furthering the illusion of those around you two that you were just as human as they, not a sick AutoReiv disposed of by its master.

The symptoms worsened over time. Constantly, you ached for his company. You worried for him. You counted the seconds ticking by leading up to his return. The pleasant sensations you encountered before became uncomfortable, borderline painful.

Obsession?

Mania?

Having no recollection of his past and little possession to give him any hope for the future, Vincent chose to live within the here and now. Despite the grim atmosphere, your company served as a little spark within that darkness. Even he noticed the increase in smiles and looking forward to seeing your face. He loved your curiosity and earnest questions; it gave him a sense of purpose. More so, your words planted seeds within his mind that lead to the rumination of his own existence, perhaps the budding of a new longing to maybe better his situation, discover who Vincent Law really was behind the green tinted windows.

But, until then, he would enjoy the diversity of little joys contained with this little life you had together.

At this point, what reason was there to change something good?

In response to your greeting, Vincent simply took your hand within his own and lead you down the winding path from his home, leading to the empty wasteland beyond the darkened horizon. The air was heavy and warm, and a thin breeze cooled your synthetic skin. After sliding his fingers through his brown locks, he turned to you and inquired,

“Thinking about something?”

You smiled.

“Nah, not really.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled. “You usually have so much to talk about.”

“I know, but not this time,” you assured, entwining your fingers with his.

The tiny flutter in breast became like a raging fire, like a pounding pulse a human’s heart might emulate. Not once did your smile disappear. Never did you lose the identity you built for yourself a little at a time.

You completely succumbed to puppetry of your virus, and never would you recover from its deadly effect.

With a hum, you drew a little closer to his side, gently resting your head onto the edge of his shoulder. He jumped at this sudden, intimate contact but eased into it the further you walked.

“I’m just happy to be here with you,” you murmured with a satisfied sigh.

The fabric of his clothes against your cheeks, the smell of gas and dirt radiating off his person, the warmth of his hand within your own, everything about him fueled the intensity of your sickness, the defects for which you were deemed as worthless,

and that sickness was love.


End file.
